


The view from above

by Tedah



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Exhibitionism, Getting Together, M/M, Masturbation, Meet-Cute, Voyeurism, window fucking, window washer Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:15:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23650684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tedah/pseuds/Tedah
Summary: Stiles has a sweet gig as a window washer and he does some people watching as he works. He ends up doing a little more than watching with the dream man from floor 25
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 16
Kudos: 345





	The view from above

**Author's Note:**

> I have no good excuse for how this one came to be.  
> I fully blame @onereader for getting me to actually write this crack adjacient idea down.  
> Apparently this is how I come back after my thesis-induced retreat from everything fun and joyful.

Stiles had always assumed he would end up in a shitty customer service job to help lessen the cost of his college tuition for his dad, maybe a bookstore if he was lucky, so he could read for free during slow days. Instead, through a series of fortuitous circumstances he ended up with a sweet gig as a window washer for a company that did a lot of office buildings and fancy steel and glass apartment buildings around New York. 

It wasn’t something he had even imagined, but it was a nice job, all things considered. He had no problem with heights, he could put on his playlist and jam out while he worked, or listen to the latest podcast he got into. When it got closer to deadlines he listened to recordings of his classes or his own summaries of the material. And it wasn’t as boring as initially assumed. It was great for people watching… Well not necessarily people per se, the apartments were mostly empty when he worked, but he got a good view of living rooms, and offices, and open plan kitchens, and he imagined the lives of people that could afford that kind of housing in NYC. The offices were fun too, he sometimes met custodians, sharing a wave through the glass, he watched lawyers in starched shirts, right next to less formal shared working spaces filled with kids barely older than him cooking up God knows what new revolutionary technology.

The view was always great, seeing the city from above was wonderful, the sun glinting off the steel, the cold wind on his face, and all the worries of the world far far below him, being so high up was a heady sensation. 

And there were pets. For every horror story Scott and Erica had from their waitressing and sales assistant jobs Stiles had a weird pet story. There was the iguana loose in the kitchen, the snakes, multiple, the needlessly elaborate terrarium for the tortoise, the wall aquarium with warrior fish, a whole lot of ferrets for some reason, and tiny dogs like they gave them away for free with the purchase of overpriced coffee machines. There was an apartment that had four cats, one of which greeted him every time he came around. That one quickly became his second favorite house to pass. He liked to make the cat chase his squidgee for a while before finishing the window and moving on.

Another one was his favorite though. It was one of the skyscrapers that overlooked central park, on the twenty-fifth floor. It was decorated with warm colors and natural materials, illuminated by the natural light coming in from the wall to ceiling window Stiles visited regularly. It was a stark contrast to the minimalist clean lines of the decor of the units surrounding it. But the best part was the man living in it. He couldn’t be older than thirty and he worked from home a lot. That or he was rich enough not to have to work at all. And he looked like something out of a wet dream, all chiselled jawline and straight nose, with a perennial shadow of beard, dark hair and piercing clear eyes… not that those eyes were directed at Stiles often. He was used to people looking  _ through  _ him like he was made of the same glass he was washing, and Dream Man in floor 25 was no different, he politely ignored Stiles and went on about his life as if he wasn’t there at all, hanging outside his window. But Stiles… oh, Stiles looked his fill. He watched him in soft thumbhole sweaters looking more adorable than any 200 pounds of pure muscle had any right to be, writing at the corner desk in the warm light coming in from the window. And then there were the times Stiles found him shirtless and he was grateful for the safety ropes because he almost fell right off the scaffold. He saw Dream man rumpled and sleepy looking, cradling a mug of coffee, presumably, with grey sweatpants hanging obscenely low on his narrow hips. And the one time Stiles caught him doing yoga right in front of the window he had to make an effort not to drool over the glass. He felt just a little bit like a stalker, lingering there longer than reasonably justifiable just to get one more glimpse of him.

Isaac never passed on the chance to remind him how creepy it was of him to stare at people inside their homes, and he would have been completely wrong, Stiles was very professional and respectful of people’s privacy... if not for Dream man on floor 25. 

Come the new year, Stiles had vowed to let go of the crush and just get on tinder, get laid so he could avoid getting in trouble for being inappropriate for ogling people in their homes while he worked. That was the mantra he repeated to himself as he descended towards floor 25.

“Just be professional, Stiles, don’t be a stalker.”

That’s when he finally lowered down to Dream Man’s window and he almost dropped the squidgee. The man was entirely naked, sprawled out on the massive couch, one leg bent and the other falling off the side. Stiles had a strong force of will but nothing could have stopped him from sneaking a peek. Yes he was hung, he was absolutely perfect, a perfect man with perfect hands wrapped around his perfect  _ hard  _ cock, stroking slowly, unhurriedly in perfect view of the massive floor to ceiling window Stiles was hanging outside of.

Shit!

What was he supposed to do? Stiles glanced up, hanging in the middle of the fucking window was definitely not an option, it was the getting fired option, maybe reported for stalking or something. He glanced back at the guy. God he was gorgeous, his eyes closed and head thrown back over the armrest, he was clearly having a good time and for a moment Stiles wished the windows weren’t soundproof so he could listen to the moans falling from those perfect lips, red and puffy from where he’d been biting on it.

He should probably do something. He could move back up and wait it out… But what if Dream man had exceedingly good stamina? Which he probably did, come on, he was flawless, and Stiles couldn’t just hang at floor 26 forever. Considering his options grew more and more difficult given how his eyes kept going back to the flexing muscles of the guy’s arm as he jerked himself off, the twitch of his abs, the drip of precum from the head of his cock.

Should he knock to make his presence known? At least the guy could finish his business in some other room and Stiles could go about his job without becoming a sex offender. No, no, the point was not getting caught hanging outside the window like some kind of pervert.

Too late. The guy had opened his eyes, his gorgeous, perfect sexy eyes, and he was looking right at Stiles. Fuck! Stiles felt his stomach drop. He was unavoidably, unmistakably caught. He didn’t dare breathe and for a second that felt like ten years neither of them moved. The guy still had a hand wrapped around his cock.

Before Stiles could do something stupid like wave through the window the guy gave him a wicked half smile and 

Kept

Fucking

Going

Stiles very loudly groaned. This was how he was going to die, spontaneous combustion due to sexual frustration. He was putting up a goddamn show, angling himself to give Stiles the best view and Stiles wished for a moment to be a chameleon so he could have independent eyes to keep one of that gorgeous face and one on that perfect cock he desperately wanted to touch.

Stiles wasn’t sure how long he remained caught under the guy’s spell, hypnotized by the slow, languid pump of his hips as he fucked his own fist, but it was still over too quick, his back arching as he spurted over his fingers and his belly. if Stiles hadn’t been gripping onto the railings for dear life he would have probably reached out, aching to run his fingers through the mess. As if reading his mind the guy trailed his fingers up through the splatter and up to his lips, making sure to keep Stiles pinned under his eyes as he licked his hand clean.

Before Stiles could get his dick under control the man got up, picked up something from the coffee table and approached the window, not an ounce of shame on his face. He stuck the paper on the window and turned on his heels walking out. Stiles almost forgot the note in favor of drooling over the perfect ass and fucking back tattoo, it was going into his forever spank bank. And nobody was going to believe him when he told the tale…

He stared at the door the man had disappeared into, already savoring the great solo session he had ahead of himself that night, until his eyes snapped to the note.

_ I’m Derek, call me _

and a phone number.

* * *

Derek turned out to be not only hotter than the sun, but intelligent, and sweet and just a little bit of an asshole when the need arose, with a dry humor to match Stiles’. Stiles got to know all those things in the few months following the window incident. Those and a million other adorable details like the fact that he talked with his eyebrows, and loved dogs more than anyone Stiles ever met (and Stiles knew Scott pretty well), or that he had an awesome badass older sister, and an equally awesome and badass younger sister that immediately adopted Stiles upon meeting him.

For once Stiles got to see the view from the other side of the glass, from the inside looking out, and it wasn’t any less breathtaking. He could totally understand the appeal of a floor to ceiling window, and Derek introduced him to the thrill of fucking in front of it on the soft rug in the middle of the day, or with his back pressed up against it with Derek’s hands on his ass holding him up, caught between the cold glass and Derek’s warm chest as he fucked him quick and dirty. 

It didn’t take much for Stiles to be entirely sold on it. It was hard not to love Derek’s skin bathed in the warm light of the sunset, his back arched as Stiles slowly rocked into him, pushing him up against the window with every movement. He could see Derek’s breath fogging up the glass and the stunning view over Derek’s shoulders. He leaned down, wrapping his arm around Derek’s waist to stroke his cock in time with his thrusts. He pressed his lips to the dip between his shoulder blades, right in the middle of his tattoo, tasting the salt of his skin.

“I love you so much,” he whispered.

Derek came right then with a strangled moan and Stiles knew he really got his dream man in his arms and he was never going to let him go.

**Author's Note:**

> if you liked it drop a comment below. I know some of you will enjoy this cheesiness.  
> I'm also [on tumblr](https://tedahfromtayla.tumblr.com/)


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